


That one snowballing fic

by VengefulHybrid



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VengefulHybrid/pseuds/VengefulHybrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Lions on TF2chan.</p>
    </blockquote>





	That one snowballing fic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Lions on TF2chan.

“Yo dickwad, I bet’cha can’t hit RED Snipes wit’ yer ball.”

The older, slightly more experienced Scout raised an eyebrow. “If I get ‘im, ya have t’ suck me off.”

That made the other Scout- slightly shorter, slightly thinner, and definitely younger- pause for a moment, then grin. “Sure, but ya have ta throw from ‘ere.”

The younger was cocky, didn’t think it was possible to throw a ball the distance between the two bases and actually land a hit on the overly paranoid Sniper. He was proved wrong however, when the next moment he was being dragged across the battlements, fleeing from the RED’s dot sight and laughing hysterically. He was pulled further, down the stairs, past the intel room where a beeping Sentry watched them run past, into the mostly unused resupply and only then shoved into one of the cupboards. The older Scout followed closely behind, tugging the chord for the light and shutting the door. What could only be described as an evil grin greeted the younger Scout when he’d recovered from the pushed-into-a-closet shock.

“I got th’ Sniper. Now ya suck me off,” he said, grabbing hold of the other’s shirt and pushing him onto his knees.

He swore as he was pushed down and pulled the hands away from his shirt. “Yea’ yea’, whatever man.”

He set his jaw, determined not to let his apprehension show. He wasn’t gay, he highly doubted the other Scout was either, but your own hand became boring after a while… he fumbled with the belt buckle in front of him and eventually tugged the other Scout’s trousers down to his ankles. Glancing up, the taller Scout looked particularly smug, his hands behind his head as he took a seat on a lone shipping crate. Awkwardly, the younger Scout stared at the bulge in the boxers in front of him, the daunting task ahead sparking more than a little bit of apprehension.

“Well? What’re ya waitin’ for mang?”

He took a few deep breaths; a bet was a bet, if he chickened out now he’d be teased relentlessly. Steeling himself, he tugged the boxers down _(dickinmyfacedickinmyfaceohshitthere’sadickinmyface)_ and only then considered how he was going to do this. The Scout stared in apprehension at the stiff cock in front of him, grinding his teeth, when a hand descended on his head and pushed him forward. Tentatively, he stuck his tongue out and licked the head, eliciting a quiet groan from the Scout above him and that gave him such a heady rush of power knowing he had control over whether or not the taller Scout would get a blowjob today that he did it again, a longer, broader and ultimately more confident stroke. There was another groan and the Scout was getting used to the taste of another man’s skin, so this time he started at the base of his cock, dragging his tongue all the way up it and over the head. He tried to recoil away from the sudden shock of the salty, slightly bitter taste of precum but the hand that remained pressed against the back of his head pushed him forward again. The Scout took another deep breath and was about to lean forward again when the hand tightened in his hair, the other’s face was suddenly a whole lot closer.

“Suck it bitch.”

He tried to make a noise of protest, but the moment his mouth was open, the thick flesh was pushed in, far enough back to make him gag. Determined to see this through to the end, he pushed the hand away, enough to rid himself of the awkward nudge of the head of the other Scout’s cock against the back of his throat. Although he’d never admit it, the younger Scout was a virgin; he had no experience with this sort of thing, what felt good and what didn’t, unless it was wanking. What healthy Scout _didn’t_ know about that?

He licked the head again, wrapping his hand around the base and giving it an experimental tug. The other Scout grunted, his hips jerking slightly. Glad he was getting some sort of response, he did it again, licking at the cock in front of him as if it was some sort of lolly pop. Saliva begun to dribble down it, pooling on his hand and soaking into the wraps, making him let go so he could shake some of the disgusting stuff off. Above him, the other Scout cried out in protest, grabbing his hair again.

“Awrigh’ awrigh’! Get off my fuckin’ hair, fag!” He slapped at the hand again before returning to what he was doing before.

He seemed to be doing something right, the taller Scout making tiny needy noises, a hand resting –not pushing, thank fuck- on his head as he sucked and licked with all the limited skill he could call on. He didn’t notice the light shudder that ran down the other’s body, although he did notice the hand tighten. He was about to protest when his head was pushed forward, hot jets of the other Scout’s cum hitting the roof of his mouth and he pulled away, soon enough to get a splash on his cheek. Too shocked and disgusted to do anything about the ejaculate pooled in his mouth, he can only watch the other begin to chuckle and then laugh out loud.

“That’s a good look for you man!” He said, attempting to bite back the rest of his laughter.

A flash of inspiration hit the slightly dumbstruck Scout, started by a single thought of _’He wouldn’t be laughing if he was down here’_. He stood, the other not even bothering to question him until he was standing above him, pressing a knee into his leg and getting closer until they were almost –but not quite- touching. The smaller Scout jabbed a thumb into his slightly open mouth, pulling apart his jaws and planting his lips on the others. A small, angry noise was quickly replaced by an even louder one, accompanied by thrashing when the salty-bitter liquid was drizzled unceremoniously into his mouth, his tongue trying to fight off the brief flow until it was attacked by the other’s and it quickly became another battle. Neither was willing to give up, glaring at each other as their tongues fought, neither willing to risk being called ‘chicken’. The taste began to dissipate and they pulled away at the same time, gasping for breath and retching theatrically. They shot each other a dirty look.  
 _No one mentions this._


End file.
